


Homeless

by phantomWanderer



Series: Forgotten Snapshots of a Lonely Portrait [1]
Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Apartment Fire, Cops are bad at their jobs, Existential Exhaustion, Garry is a Painting, Garry is tired, Implied Arson, Indifferent Police Officers, Post-Gallery, but still a good person, forgotten portrait ending, he just wants to live quietly, idk what im doing, implied corrupt emergency responder, implied corrupt police/firefighter force, might be continued possibly, this is a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomWanderer/pseuds/phantomWanderer
Summary: Post-Forgotten Portrait Ending in the Gallery.Garry has escaped the Gallery, condemned to an eternity as a painting, and trying to forget everything that makes him different from a normal person. It's been years since the events of the Gallery, and he wanders alone, trying to find meaning to the world he lives in.And now he is once again homeless, after an unfortunate fire yet again demolishes his current apartment. He just wants to rest, away from all the trouble that hounds his every step...
Series: Forgotten Snapshots of a Lonely Portrait [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982141
Kudos: 9





	Homeless

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a drabble I wrote earlier in the year and felt was good enough to share.
> 
> May or may not be continued, or become a prelude, but for now it's a one-shot.
> 
> I don't own any rights to Kouri's game Ib, and I very much respect the creator.

* * *

Garry stared upwards as the crumbling husk of the small apartment he’d been living in for the past three months burned to ash, sighing. Back to house-hunting for the time being, sleeping in parks and alleys, avoiding the wild folk in the city. This was the third one to take damage from his unfortunate circumstance, and it was starting to wear him down.

How much longer, before word spread in this city about the man that destroys apartments like it’s a challenge? He’s not _intentionally_ ruining them, oh no. It’s _worse_ because he’s genuinely trying to stay there, out of the way, unnoticed by those around him. But he’s being hunted, and it’s taking a toll on his housing situation for sure. Eventually he’ll have to change cities again, knowing that people will stop renting apartments out to him after a while.

The sound of fire sirens snapped him out of his daze, and he resigned himself to explaining for the third time that there was some issue with the wiring in his toaster that caused the machine to combust into flames. It’s suspicious, and as soon as the firefighters spot his purple head of hair, he can feel the accusing stares. Pretty soon, housewives are going to label him an arsonist or a horribly unlucky curse.

He’s _so close_ to giving up, the thought of losing a home so many times over in some demented hunt wearing down his heart. He’s moved through so many different cities and towns, leaving a wake of damages behind him, and a reputation he desperately wants to erase. He waves at the firefighters, and gives a sheepish smile as he’s yet again approached by the local officers who responded to his neighbor’s emergency call. The look on their faces already makes his heart sink, and he’s instinctively hunching his shoulders to look meek.

“Hello officers, it’s uh, quite a night isn’t it?”

They aren’t the same officers that responded to the last two calls, so he has some minor relief, but it’s clear that he’s become a chat topic at the station. They look at him with dark eyes, faces stuck in a mockery of a smile. It’s even cleared that they’re annoyed to have been called out for him. He wasn’t the most popular, being relatively new to the city, especially with such foreign features as his purple hair and unusual fashion sense. In the half of a minute it took to register their faces and annoyance after he spoke, he found himself listening to the verbal lashing he’d been expecting since the car pulled up.

“Mr…,” The officer paused to look at the papers he held, no doubt his lease. “… ah, Gallagher, is it?” 

He didn’t know why they put up with this farce, Garry was aware of the alias name he’d entered this city with. Did they suspect it wasn’t his real name? They couldn’t- the man he used to be was _dead_ and would stay that way. Sure, there weren’t that many people with naturally purple hair, but people don’t tend to look at death records to look up living people. Assuming his death was ever recorded.

That didn’t matter right now, he needed to answer them, and to stop letting his nerves get the best of him. Nothing mattered more than finding somewhere to stay the night and getting through this situation with as little trouble as possible.

“Yes sir, Garry Gallagher. An unfortunate name, when it comes to initials and syllables.” Maybe a joke would help lighten the situation, or at least the mood.

“Yeah, unfortunate. This is your third incident in about 8 months. This one caused by…“ “A toaster, sir.” “…A toaster.” The man flipped through some pages, most likely incident reports. “A toaster this time, a microwave last time, and a lamp before that. I think you should invest in better household appliances, Mr. Gallagher, it seems you have poor luck with them.”

It was clearer than any accusation, they would find no tampering with the appliance, the cord, or the outlet, but still they suspect him. No matter what he does, it always looks poorly for him, as the incidents grow. He wanted to shrink in on himself and leave, but it would only make him look guilty. “I apologize, I hoped that my luck would be better this time around. It’s so expensive to own a house, and I fear that the universe is laughing at me.”

The cop looked unimpressed, and he wanted nothing more than to be at some other location, not dealing with this mess. He’s covered in soot, has lost his apartment and meager amount of belongings again, and just wants to sleep. Like he _had_ been doing before the fucking Dolls had caused a short circuit in his toasters wiring and set the place ablaze. Wishes would not set back the clock though, and he takes a stiff breath to square his shoulders and handle this latest disaster.

He had a solution anyways, and seeing the reactions of both the firefighters giving him the side-eye, and the cop’s outright skepticism, his last-ditch answer was looking better by the minute. He’d go homeless. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it was looking to be the only answer anyways. He couldn’t keep moving from building to building and putting other tenants at risk like this, and it’s not like anyone would notice _just another homeless man in the streets._

“The universe huh? I’ll bet. Do you need a ride to the station to get situated? Or are you fine? Says here that you refused a ride every other time too, you got some place already lined up?”

The sheer suspicion in the man’s words was enough to make Garry flinch, and quick to shake his head in the negative. Better to not make it look any more suspicious, even as he plots to leave at the earliest he can manage. To take steps in that regard, he responds with as much confidence he can muster.

“No, I’ll be fine though, I’m sure there are some motels or inns still taking late night check-ins. I’ll walk around, clear my head.”

Not that he expects the officer to believe him, but the guy’s partner had gone back to the car before Garry had even started talking, so they couldn’t care that much. This was the one time he was glad the police force didn’t seem to be all that great at their jobs, if not outright negligent.

Taking his answer at I-don’t-want-to-be-here value, the officer leaves, after shooting him another suspicious glare. No matter, the fire has been out for a while now, and all but one firetruck remains, the few remaining workers investigating for the cause of the blaze. They didn’t need him for that, and so he slips away, heading into the dark streets, resolute in his decision to re-learn how to live off of them.

* * *

_As he slips away, one of the firefighters watches from where they’re filling out papers in the truck. The man watches with cold brown eyes, a flat expression on his face, and a surface level detachment._

_The gaze is neutral at first glance to anyone that may see, but a closer look reveals something more sinister…_

**Author's Note:**

> This is full of my own headcanons for the character, and in no way should be considered accurate or true of any post game information.
> 
> As this is my Personal Interpretation of Garry's Character I ask that nobody else take credit for or implement this particular interp without asking first.


End file.
